


bizarre

by Sonny



Series: WORD : GAMES (Redux) [4]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-10
Updated: 2009-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 20:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny





	bizarre

**Word is... BIZARRE**

It was a rare thing to enter the Liberty Diner and find it _completely_ empty. 

As Michael walked in, he took a step back out to look and see if there were any signs out front saying what was going on. _Nothing_ . All right--he would play along. It wasn't like he wasn't getting used to his life taking a  **bizarre** turn, or twist, here-n-there the last few years. 

This time when he strolled in-- _the bell above the door jangling_ \--he noticed Brian immediately. He had called Michael around noontime to say he would be having another late night at work. But looking at him now, Brian wasn't even dressed in a business suit. He was wearing what he used to in high school. Converse sneakers, skin-tight black jeans, an equally black-n-faded t-shirt depicting his favorite band-- _this one was Depeche Mode_ \--and a ratty-looking leather jacket. 

"What? The Fuck? Is going on here? Ma called me, made it seem like this would be an emergency. I was helpin' Jenny with her school project and then--" Michael had his hands on his hips, then smoothed his hand through mid-air. "--did I forget something?" He was usually good about remembering special "dates". 

"Why? What would give you _that_ idea?" Brian walked toward Michael, then swept past to turn the Closed sign around and lock the door. He even went as far as to pull down the blinds for the door and the windows. 

Michael watched with his jaw slack in slight shock. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but--well, I think I've become accustomed to being confused on a daily basis with you." 

There was enough of a hue illuminating the diner to still see clearly, though the front set of lights were switched off. 

"I'm still Brian Kinney. Now I just fuck one guy more than once as often as he'll let me." Brian let his eyebrows wiggle in a tease. 

" _**You** _ are the least domesticated partner that _**I** _ know of." 

Brian stepped closer to Michael, one thumb hooked at a back pocket of his jeans, his elbow joint leaning on the cashier counter. "--think back a few years." 

" _Christ_ ... you  do realize we're almost forty? We're reaching senility. We don't _have_ to remember way-back when." 

"What if _**I** _ want to?" 

"What the hell for? It will only remind you how old you _really_ are." 

Brian approached Michael, dropping his arms low to wrap around his waist. "--sway with me." 

"There's no music." 

"There's _always_ music." Brian brought Michael's chest flush with his, then bent to lean his brow on Michael's forehead. "--close your eyes." 

Michael reached out to pick at Brian's shirt, from between the lapels of the leather jacket. "Only if you close yours too." 

Brian chuckled deeply. " _Still_ don't trust me?" 

"You've taught me to be alert, always keeping me on my toes." 

"It'd be boring--and we'd likely be dead if I didn't." 

" _**We** _ ..." Michael slid his arms under the jacket to settle about Brian's own waist. "... were _never_ boring." 

"No. And we _still_ aren't." 

They kept swaying a little, then Michael brought up his arms to rest them on Brian's shoulders. "I know I didn't miss our anniversary, so--" His thumb messed with the ring on the finger of his hand. "-- _gosh_ ... there's a lot between us that this could be about." Michael turned his head away in curiosity, immediately slipping back into deep thought. 

"It's okay if you don't remember _exactly_ ." Brian brought a hand up, finger extended to trace Michael's features. "That's why we have each other, when the other forgets and we need to be reminded--or told finally. This..." He lifted his chin, breaking their intimate contact, though they still remained close. "... is mostly for _my own_ well-being. To show my appreciation for you having put up with all my shit." 

"You don't have to. I already feel appreciated enough." Michael recalled the past few nights in bed, where he couldn't get undressed fast enough before Brian tried to devour him. "But now I _am_ curious." He couldn't help looking at the way Brian was dressed-- _clothes always wearing him, even at that young of an age_ . "You look like you did when you were fourteen. I mean, you're mode of dress is--" One hand trailed over the old leather jacket. "-- _wait_ ..." Michael gradually stepped backward a little to look over the jacket at a distance. "-- _jesus_ , this isn't--?" 

Brian smirked, one eyebrow raised. "It is." He pulled his arms away, crossing them behind his back. "Check out what's in the pockets." Brian was offering out his body, allowing Michael to do what he willed and wanted, barring the soft request. 

Michael chuckled while sticking one hand in the right pocket to bring out Camels and a lighter. _God, Brian's old Bic lighter!_ With a bit more eagerness, Michael dug into the left pocket, finding a half-pack of Juicy Fruit gum, a roll of LifeSavers candies and a tiny folded sheet of scrap paper. When he opened the scrap paper, Michael noticed his own name and telephone number-- _to the Novotny house_ \--written in his own handwriting. "--good God, Brian... where did you find _this_ ?" He pet the leather jacket as if it was an old comfy friend. 

"Where do you _think_ ?" 

"Have you been--?" Michael tilted his head in slight confusion, then suddenly realized there was no other place Brian would've gone to find his old stuff from childhood. "-- _nooooo_ ... you said you'd _never_ \--not without me with you." 

"I did it for Gus." Brian lifted his chin with pride. For once, pride at having behaved and taken the high road. "I thought it was time." 

"Oh, man... Brian, why didn't you--?" Michael pat the t-shirt to the chest, feeling the warmth of the body beneath. He slid his hand up-n-down the side of Brian's rib cage in a soothing manner. "Never mind. How did it go?" 

"Awkward, at first." Brian smiled broadly, trying to contain his need to laugh out loud at the unforgettable memory. "--then Gus charmed the Scotch right outta her hand." 

Michael had sense enough to look outraged--for maybe a second. "She _didn't_ ?!" Then he was smirking, as well as joining in the laughter. 

"No, no..." Brian reached out to grab for Michael's own jeans, hooking fingers in belt loops and tugging him closer again. "--I'm teasing. She was sober, probably. Well, she wasn't drinking while we were there." 

Michael cupped his hands on Brian's shoulders, sending them down the leather sleeves. "You found this in your old bedroom?" 

"Yeah... I'll tell you about it later." Brian licked his lips, liking the way in which Michael's eyes went half-lidded as if heading toward a perverted sexual thought. "You keep forgetting there's one more pocket." 

"I _didn't_ forget." Michael simply knew it was the "forbidden" pocket he could never touch or look inside of. 

"Well, then..." Brian was about to step back to allow Michael free reign to touch him, but Michael was already there. "--far be it from me to--" He closed his eyes, catching a quick breath as he felt Michael's hand inching up the shirt, drawing the worn hem to expose bare skin. Brian's body instantly reacted, like usual. 

"You never let me 'see' what was in here. I was always curious. I never peeked, even when you'd let me wear it." Michael found the secret compartment/inside pocket, then dipped his hand to feel a collection of papers stuffed in a small hardbound book. They were tiny scraps of paper like the one his name and number had been on. Once the small book was visible, Michael lifted an eyebrow. "--hmm... even a Casanova at fourteen?" It reminded him of a _little black book_ , except it was maroon with the tiny gold-embossed initials of B.K.A.- the "K" being prominent in the center. 

"I got that in Sunday School--as a stocking stuffer one Christmas. I was supposed to use it to write down scriptures, reasons I would have to go to confession for-- _blah, blah, blah_ ." Brian softly snickered. "Little did Joan know..." 

Michael laughed along with Brian as he began to open the book. There weren't names or phones numbers on the thin-lined pages. There was nothing to do with other boys, but everything to do with Michael. Quotes--poems--lyrics... and tiny drawings, sketched randomly. It all had something to do with Michael or their budding friendship. Some of the scraps of paper were Michael's own notes to Brian with his quick, curt replies. "Brian, I-I-I'm--" He was, literally, rendered speechless, is what he was. 

"This one..." Brian took something out of his back pocket. "... is my favorite. I thought you might like it." He handed the paper over, looking slightly embarrassed. 

It was another drawing, probably meant to be turned into a tattoo of some kind at a later date--a huge heart with the name "Michael" curled around the shape. You could barely detect the letter "I", but it was there, hidden in the heart. 

"Oh, my..." Michael felt his throat choke up. _**Damn...** _

"You believe me _now_ ? That I loved you even way-back when?" 

"I've _never_ doubted you." Michael furrowed his brow with some concern. "Why would you think _that_ ?" 

"Meh... just checking." Brian reached out to smooth a hand over Michael's flushed cheek. 

"Now I have 'proof'." 

"And you can share with Jenny when she starts to hate me for meeting every boy she wants to date at the door with a loaded shotgun." 

Michael shaped his hand around the air of the diner. "All _this_ ... was for this one paper?" He held up the piece in question. 

"No. I've had this jacket for a few days." Brian grabbed the lapels and adjusted the jacket over his torso. "Took me awhile to find my old t-shirt..." He smoothed a hand down the thin, worn t-shirt. "... and these Converse." Brian kicked out one shoe to show the designer logo. "By the time I was ready, I was close enough to the _very_ day." 

"The _very_ day?" 

"--the _exact_ day I first fell in love with you." 

It was all beginning to "click" now, in Michael's mind. "Here?" He pointed a finger down to the tiled floor. "In the diner?" 

"... yeah..." 

"Uh... I don't even--" 

"That's not important. What is, and always will be, important is _**us** _ ." Brian reached out to clamp a hand over Michael's forearm. "Go it?" His hand squeezed tight to stress his point. 

"Uhm, yeah, I think I _got it_ . Loud and clear." 

"Good." This time Brian sauntered up to Michael, staring down at him under slowly blinking lashes. "... 'cuz it's _your_ turn next." 

" _My_ turn? For _what_ ?" Michael only pretended stupidity because his mind was only on one thing--and those lips he had been wanting to kiss-- _always seemed to want to kiss_ \--were coming down toward him. 

"The day _**you** _ knew you loved _**me** _ ." Brian was tilting his head, his face lowering to Michael's mouth. 

"Well, gosh..." Michael shot back with a silly grin. "... that's pretty easy." 

"Oh, yeah?" Brian raised a curious eyebrow, only because he wondered if Michael's topped _this_ moment--especially with the "sentiment" and honesty he had poured forth without no provocation. 

"--it's been every day that I've been alive..." Michael quirked up one side of his mouth, his eyes twinkling softly. "... since the day we first spoke." 

Brian swallowed nervously, having to avert his head as he tried to contain his emotions. He had to pause in his pursuit of a kiss, his eyes becoming a little hazy with moisture. As per habit, lately, his thumb began to twirl the ring about his finger whenever he felt that "ping" to his chest--the need to completely collapse into Michael's arms and just sob. 

_**Damn...** _

**~*~the end**


End file.
